


when you grow into your skin

by despertarse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor!Louis, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DJ Malik, M/M, actor!Liam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despertarse/pseuds/despertarse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is the Next Big Thing in acting. At only twenty-three, he’s following a string of hits by shooting a Scorsese film with Leonardo DiCaprio. He’s on top of the world. But with fame comes attention that scares the people it once attracted. And all he wants is someone to talk to in this city so far from home. </p><p>Liam Payne has been working on West End stages since he was seven, and now he’s moving to New York for a role on Broadway. The fact that he’s mostly alone in this huge new city is never far from his mind as he navigates his new life in the States. </p><p>Also starring DJ Zayn Malik, audio engineer Niall Horan, and international popstar Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. so you don't forget how we first met

**Author's Note:**

> work and chapter titles from Copper Down by The Boy Who Trapped The Sun, which is kind of an inspiration for this whole fic. please listen to it; it's beautiful.

It isn’t even quite half eight, and Louis Tomlinson is already having a rough day.

He pauses slightly as the automatic doors of Los Angeles International Airport slide open before him. The cool air envelops him and pulls him along into the terminal. Even in the morning, the difference between the California humidity and indoor air conditioning is a stark one, but one he appreciates as he removes his sunglasses and runs his fingers through his wilted hair. The long open building is bustling with activity as travelers prepare for their flights out of southern California, and for the fourth time this month, he’ll be joining them in the skies.

Louis juggles his coffee in one hand as he digs in his bag for his boarding pass and driver’s license, silently thanking god he'd sent his luggage ahead with his team so he could check in online last night and skip the madness happening at the counters. At least one thing has gone according to plan. 

Unlike his alarm never going off, making him rush to shower and toss his laptop and other necessities into the worn brown leather bag he takes everywhere. And spilling his scalding coffee on himself, leaving his white t-shirt with a brown stain and the skin underneath with an angry red welt. And the car he'd hired to take him to the airport getting stuck in LA traffic because they'd left later than expected. 

He almost wishes he hadn't sent his assistant, Kate, ahead to New York the night before. She makes everything so much easier, handling all the little details he absentmindedly forgets, but this is what he always does. He prefers to travel alone, with little fanfare and little advance warning. He hates the big production other celebrities, like Harry Styles, make of travelling, with an entourage and fans and paparazzi.  There just isn’t a _point._ It only serves to slow the whole process down, and especially right now, that isn’t something he could deal with.

So this is how he finds himself, standing in the security line at LAX at half eight on a Sunday morning, hoping he makes his 8:52 flight to La Guardia airport in New York. Luckily Terminal 4 is one of the smallest of the eight terminals of LAX, domestic only and the hub of American Airlines so the security lines are shorter than when he flies home to England. They move much more quickly and in a few moments he's slipping off his shoes and placing them in a plastic bin with his laptop sitting on top of his bag. He deposits his phone, watch, and sunglasses into a smaller container and waits for the TSA employee to wave him through the metal detector. The man in the dark blue uniform looks over his ID and boarding pass when Louis hands it to him before looking up to his face again. 

" _The_  Louis Tomlinson?" he asks. 

Louis nods. 

"Love your work, man." 

Louis smiles at the way he says it, so calmly yet with earnest. He must see actors and musicians come through every day and has learnt not to be star struck. 

"Thank you," Louis says quietly and takes his documents back after stepping through the metal detector. 

He slides his feet into his beat up red TOMS and collects his things to go search for his gate. It’s the last one on the left, and the plane is finishing the boarding process when he reaches it.

“Mr. Tomlinson, _finally_. We were expecting you an hour ago,” the airline representative manning the counter says when he hurries up. She speaks calmly, but Louis can see the hint of annoyance in the way her smile tightens and doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Kate had alerted the airline he’d be flying this morning, and usually he was quietly boarded into first class before the rest of the passengers in order to keep a low profile. Now, with the plane full of his fellow passengers milling about and settling in, he’s sure to cause a stir.

“So sorry,” he apologises with a warm smile, “got stuck in traffic. You know how rush hour can be.”

He speaks slowly, his accent shining through, the one from growing up in Doncaster that’s thicker than it usually is, after having returned to LA only a few days ago from visiting his mother and sisters back home. Here in the States, people are more familiar with his films than his interviews and expect to hear the generic American accent he has perfected over his years in the industry.

The woman is caught off guard by the head mixture of shiny white teeth of a mega-watt actor smile and British accent, and she stutters a. “of course, sir. Unfortunately, I do,” as she scans his boarding pass with shaky hands. She returns it and points him down the aerobridge.

“Cheers.”

Louis makes it onto the plane without any fuss from those around him, flashing another smile at the stewardess, and moments after he’s stowed his bag and buckled his seatbelt, the plane is ready for take-off.

 

;

 

"Promise you'll Skype whenever you can," Karen Payne says tearfully as she grasps her son round the middle in the busy Heathrow terminal. People swirl around them, oblivious to the family saying their good-byes.

"Yes, mum, I promise," Liam says patiently to the woman hugging him tightly. "I haven't lived at home in four years,” he reminds her as he pats gently pats her shoulder.

"But you've always been just a short trip away!" his mother wails, pulling back to dab at the corner of her teary eyes with a tissue. "Now you'll be in  _America_." 

"And I will Skype and call whenever I'm not rehearsing, and you can come visit whenever you like," Liam promises her as his two sisters and his father move into hug him now. 

"You'll be home for Christmas right?" Nicola asks, peering up at him hopefully with her arms around his waist. 

Liam nods and kisses her cheek before Ruth throws her arms around him too.

"Yes, as we planned. We have a week-long break from rehearsal, so I'll be home for the holidays." 

"Good," Geoff says gruffly and pulls his only son into an embrace. "Take care of yourself over there. Call us when you land." 

"I will." 

Liam slings his bag over his shoulder, and with one last group hug from his family, he walks down the hall past the security line on the floor they’re not allowed to cross. He turns to blow them a kiss and they wave back, his mum still crying with his dad's arms around her. 

When he took this role, he didn't think it would be this hard to leave. 

It isn't even a large role at a large theatre, but it's  _Broadway_ , and one he's played it before, many years ago. But the United States is so very far away from his small flat in London, and he's only been there once, to New York back when he had flown out for the second round of auditions. He'd been there a week, officially gotten the role on the second day, and spent the rest of the trip looking for a flat.

That was a month ago and now he's standing terrified in the airport security line.

His head is screaming at him, willing his legs to move not forward, but to turn around and run in the opposite direction. But his feet don't move. They stay firmly planted on the floor as his stomach rolls. What is he doing, has he gone utterly  _mad_? He cannot just up and move to  _America_  to perform on  _Broadway_ , in a musical with an  _open-ended_  run. His home is in England, in London, doing shows in the West End. Where the people sound like him and like proper football and drink tea. 

"Sir, are you alright?" the security guard asks from somewhere close.  

Liam jolts out of his panic to stare at the man for a moment before his eyes dart around at his surroundings. Somehow he has made it to the head of the line next to the metal detector and x-ray scanner where he now stands frozen with his rucksack in his hands.

"Yes... Yes. I'm... fine," he says and quickly hands him his documents. He steps out of his shoes to put them into the plastic bin with his bag, pushing it forward so it hits the conveyor belt.  

The guard gives him an odd look but says nothing more as he returns the boarding pass and passport.

This is going to be a long flight, Liam thinks. 

He’s on autopilot until he is seated on the plane an hour later, bag stowed beneath the seat in front of him. That’s when the panic begins to set in again, but at this point, there’s no turning back.

 

;

 

As soon as the plane touches down, Louis pulls his phone out and powers it on, setting it on his knee to allow the alerts to pour in. A few are well wishes from a few of his close friends who knew he was heading to location to film,  a few are from his family asking him to let them know when he’s arrived safely, and one is from Kate, informing him that she and the car are already waiting outside. He gathers his belongings and when the plane is hooked to the gate he’s the first one to disembark, pausing for a quick photo with the pilot before rushing off to meet the awaiting car.

The door of the black Town Car swings open as Louis approaches the vehicle and he slips inside. It begins to move before anyone waiting on the curb can fully process that he just walked by.

“How was your flight?” Kate asks, handing him a water bottle from the mini fridge in the back of the car.

“Uneventful,” he replies as he twists off the cap. “Is everything set to go?”

Kate nods as she taps out a text on her phone, probably to his agent, Marjorie, to tell her of his arrival.

“The loft is ready, all of your things are unpacked, and you’re to be on location at six Tuesday morning.”

Louis leans back in his seat and lets a deep breath out through his nose, relieved he has all of this afternoon and tomorrow to rest and allow his body to adjust to the time difference before he has to be to work. He needs that, as excited he is to be filming again, to get back into the character he’s just spend a month portraying on the sound stages of Hollywood.

“Lovely, thanks.”

He texts his mum and sisters back as the car maneuvers onto the highway. Traffic isn’t bad until they get onto the island of Manhattan, as it always it, but it isn’t long before they’re pulling up in front of the building in Nolita where Louis has leased a flat for the next two months. It’s kind of mind-blowing he’s staying only a few blocks from where Martin Scorsese grew up. Then again, it’s still kind of mind-blowing he’s actually acting in a Martin Scorsese film.

He bids Kate good-bye after she hands him the keys to the flat, promising to call her if he finds he needs anything. He watches the car drive away, tourists looking at him curiously as if they can’t decide if he’s actually him of not. He’s a mere three blocks off the shopping on Broadway and people have filtered out of the restaurants on Spring Street.

He knows he probably shouldn’t have selected a flat in such a central location that provides little anonymity, but the place had felt too nice to pass up.

The keys fit smoothly into the lock of the building’s front door and he lets himself inside before anyone can approach him. His flat is on the fourth floor and he takes the steps two at a time.

The small loft is even more lovely than the pictures Kate had texted to him a few weeks before, bright from the late afternoon light spilling in from the windows across from the front door, curtains pulled back. White walls, white cabinets, and white appliances make the space seem larger, but the shag rug on the oak floor and the blue sofa pull everything together and keep it cozy and warm.

Louis could afford a place four times as large, four times as much, but how much time is he really going to be spending here anyway? With long hours on set he’ll only be in to sleep, change his clothing, and to cook the occasional meal he doesn’t feel like going out for. He doesn’t need that much room, and besides. One of the things he’d loved about the little flat was the difference from his larger one back in LA.

He drops his bag on the sofa before back-tracking to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The cabinets and fridge are stocked with the basics – bread, milk, eggs, etc – and a few of his favourites, like the two boxes of Yorkshire tea he finds in the cabinet to the right of the sink. Bless, Kate. He fills the kettle and flips the switch, settling back against the counter to send a text as he waits for it to boil.

Before Louis can lock the phone and return it to his pocket, it vibrates and lights up with an incoming phone call. He grins, pressing the “accept call” button and raising it to his ear.

“Hullo.”

“You’re already at your flat, aren’t you, you twat?” Zayn Malik all but yells from the other end of the line.

Louis chuckles to himself at the thought of the DJ/Producer checking his mobile every few minutes for his call. He loves to make him wait, it’s true, if only for reactions like this.

“Aw, Zaynie, did you miss me?”

"Maybe, but that's beside the point," Zayn sputters a whine. "You're here. In New York. You promised me we'd go out when you got here." 

"It's not even six, mate. Why does it matter?" 

"Because Niall is already hungry." 

The mention of Zayn's Irish boyfriend being hungry makes Louis roll his eyes. The blonde is always hungry, even if he's just finished a meal. It's a bit disconcerting really, because where does it  _go_?

"Well feed him a snack cos I need a shower." 

"You're staying over on Mulberry, right? If we leave now we'll probably get there when you're fixing your hair," Zayn says sarcastically. 

"Hey. Don't talk about me doing  _my hair_ , when you're the one who spends an hour on yours every morning and then  _look in mirrors all day_ ," Louis jokes as the kettle clicks off. He adjusts the phone so he's holding it between his ear and shoulder as he drops a tea bag into a mug before pouring the hot water over it. 

Zayn scoffs.

"Yeah, yeah. Text me the address and we'll be over in a bit." 

"Will do, Zaynie poo," Louis sing songs and ends the call. 

He sets his phone down on the counter and stares into the mug in front of him, watching as the amber swirls blend with the clear water until it's a solid cup of proper tea. 

 

;

 

Liam raises his arms above his head and stretches, groaning as his muscles pull after being held in one position for far too long. The vertebrae of his back pop in quick succession and he lets his breath out as his body sags again. 

He's been in this cramped seat for just over eight hours and now that the plane is on the ground at Newark, he kind of wishes the flight wasn't over. 

Because now he's here, a short train ride from New York City, to begin his new life in America alone. 

He swallows hard and he stands, picking up his rucksack to slip it over his shoulders. His legs feel like gelatin as he makes his way down the narrow aisle and off the plane, half from nerves and half from not using them in so long. He nods and smiles politely to the stewardess before crossing the threshold. 

The air smells different, he decides as he breathes in sharply. It's similar to London with the pollution in the back of his nose, but the salt of the ocean mingles with it. 

Liam follows the flow of people to the luggage carousels the next floor down, not turning his phone on until he's nabbed a spot by where the bags come from the tarmac. It's dinner time back home, a perfectly fine time to ring his parents to tell them he's arrived safely. 

"How are you, dear?" his mother picks up. 

"I'm alright," he responds, watching the lights atop the carousel begin to flash and the first of the bags begin to appear. "A bit tired. And you?" 

"I'm well," Karen says and he can hear the wistful smile in her voice. "But I'm sure this call is costing you a fortune, so I'll let you go. Give us a ring on Skype tomorrow when you're settled. I love you." 

"I love you too, Mum."

Liam presses the red button and stares at his phone as the call screen fades and his home screen comes up. It's a photograph of his family, a candid taken last Christmas in Wolverhampton. He smiles and brushes his thumb over the faces. He couldn't have gotten this far without them. 

It was his mum and dad who had encouraged his acting when he was a child, paid for his voice and piano lessons, and attended at least one performance of everything he'd been in. His sisters had been there too, applauding as he took a bow with the rest of the cast, looking on with pride. 

They feel so far away now, miles and hours between them stretching until it’s almost intangible. Almost.

He looks up to the carousel again in time to see one of his bags about to pass him, his second one just behind it on the chute. He quickly grabs them both, one in each hand, and hauls them off the metal conveyor. 

Liam manages to go through customs surprisingly quick after presenting his visa and passport to the official, who'd merely glanced at them for a moment before waving him through. A quick trip on the AirTrain and he's at the airport's train station, purchasing a ticket to Penn Station. He falls into his seat on the train, body feeling like it weighs twice as much as it does. He's exhausted even though he'd slept most of the flight from England and all he can think about it getting to the studio apartment in Brooklyn and taking a shower. He feels gross, like there are ten layers of dirt and sweat caked to his skin.

From Penn Station, it's another thirty-five minutes on the subway until he reaches the old brick warehouse nestled into a quiet block of other large renovated buildings in the borough. The trip to the second floor is a bit of a struggle, trying to fit his bags into the old cage lift, and he's never felt more relieved as he does when he unlocks the heavy front door of the apartment and steps inside. Exposed brick covers the far external wall that holds the original floor to ceiling windows, broken into smaller individual panes. He drags his bags across the old scuffed floors to where a wall stands alone past the kitchen. Behind it is a wrought-iron bed and a tall wooden wardrobe between the two walls, not really a "bedroom" but it's separated from the rest of the large studio for privacy. There's no other furniture in the space yet as he hadn’t had time to purchase anything else before returning to London last month.

Liam toes off his shoes and makes his way to the bathroom with his bag of toiletries and a shower curtain still in its plastic packaging. It takes him a few minutes to attach it to the rod above the old footed bath, but when it's up he turns the knobs to start the flow of water. The pipes open with a whoosh and the showerhead sputters before icy cold water pours out. He strips off his clothes as it warms up, and a minute later he's standing under the hot spray, water pounding into the aching muscles of his back. Tomorrow he'll go to the grocery store and furniture shopping and pick up kitchen essentials, but tonight he'll go out to dinner. Everything he needs to do before rehearsals begin in a week can be put on pause for a moment of good food from Chinatown. 

 

;

 

When Zayn buzzes up, Louis is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pomade coated fingers in his hair, pulling it into messy tufts. He quickly rinses his hands and dries them, checking his hair for the final time before going not the entry to buzz his friend in. The knock on the door comes just moments later, and he pulls the door open instantly. 

"LOUEEEEHHH!" Zayn shouts gleefully and throws his arms around the smaller boy. 

"ZAAYNIIIIEEE!" 

Louis' grin threatens to split his face in two when he returns the hug. There's something about the way the DJ's arms grasp him that always makes him feel so much better. He doesn't have many people he’d call his friends thanks to his profession  and Zayn is his best mate by miles. They’ve been close since they met at an awards show in England a few years prior, young and just beginning to make names for themselves, shocked they’d been invited to the event at all. They’d bonded over that and their shared love of Manchester United, swapping numbers at the end of the night.

Niall shuts the door behind them, smiling fondly at the two as Zayn nuzzles his nose into Louis' freshly styled hair. The smaller boy tries to pull away flailing but Zayn holds him tight.

"You're finally here, mate!" 

Louis makes a face at that. Finally. 

"Oh no, don't you look at me like that," Zayn scolds as he releases him. "This is exciting!"

"Okay, it is," Louis agrees and he turns to the blonde boy to embrace him as well. "How're you, Nialler?"

"Pretty good, mate, thanks. And yourself? How was the flight?" 

"Long, screaming children, you know how it is," Louis replies and the other two nod sympathetically, all too familiar with flying. "So, food, yeah?" 

Niall grins cheekily. 

"I thought you'd never ask!" 

Chinatown is less than a mile from Louis' loft, so they opt to walk. The late summer air is warm, a light breeze moving through the streets as they walk under the streetlights. Zayn's favourite restaurant is tucked into the middle of the block among the jewelry and shoe stores, with a fluorescent sign above the doors. Inside it's larger than it looked from the street and the hostess smiles at them as she leads them to the table in the far back corner when she recognizes Zayn. It's common knowledge he and Louis are friends - they'd been photographed together many times, at events, out and about in London - but they don’t want to draw too much attention. After all, if any one got wind of both of them being in New York at the same time, the paparazzi would have a field day and all Louis wants is a quiet dinner with his mates. 

They order enough food to feed at least twice as many people, everything from scallion pancakes and soup dumplings, to shrimp fried rice and some sort of chicken Louis isn't sure of when Niall insists on ordering it but tastes delicious when he tries it. 

"You excited for shooting this week?" Niall asks around a mouthful of pancake after they’ve begun to tuck into the plates that cover the small table. 

Louis nods, waiting to speak until he's swallowed unlike his friend. 

"Of course. Location is so much more fun. How long will you two be here?" 

"I go back to London after tomorrow night's show," Zayn replies with a grimace. Even though he's been in the industry for six years, he's never really understood why he needs to perform live. DJing and producing is a lot of behind the scenes work, sitting at an audio board or a computer and blending all the sounds to form the perfect song. His songs are meant for radio, for the clubs. Not live shows when all eyes are on him as he recreates the beats from memory, alone on stage. "Niall is staying for a while though."

"Oh, you are?" Louis inquires, turning to look at the blonde again. It’s the first he’s heard of this despite having talked to Zayn last night.

"Yeh. Got a gig doing some production and engineering for the soundtrack of a new musical," Niall replies and clumsily drops his chopsticks. Zayn reaches over to adjust them in his fingers looking fondly at him, so far from the 'Bradford Bad Boi' he'd once been dubbed. The small sheepish smile of appreciation Niall gives him sends a ping through Louis' heart. They're so in love and it makes him wonder what it's like. 

"Which?" he asks after forcing down the sudden lump in his throat. 

Niall doesn’t look up from his plate, tongue poked into his cheek with concentration.

"Cinderella."

 

;

 

Liam trails his fingers along the back of a dark brown sofa, caressing the soft leather. Like everything in the small second hand shop, it's old and worn and full of character just like his flat. He's skipped the high end furniture stores of Manhattan in favour of the thrift stores of Brooklyn, searching for pieces that both suit the large space and make it feel like home. Already he has found a few mismatched bookcases and a brass floor lamp for the corner he'd like to turn into a small library. It's going to take a few more shopping trips, but it's coming along nicely if he says so himself. 

He pays for the sofa and arranges for it to be delivered before leaving the shop. It's been a long afternoon already and all he really wants is a nap he can't have for a few hours yet. 

Instead, he heads to the grocery store he'd found close to his loft. The market is fairly large and easy to navigate as he moves through the aisles collecting the basic staples of his diet. The brands confuse him, vastly different from the ones he’s used to from home. But he muddles through alright, making a mental note to find an import store so he can buy proper tea.

"You new?" the checkout girl asks as he approaches the till and begins to pile his things on the counter. "Haven't seen you around before," she adds with a friendly smile when he blinks at her in confusion. 

"Oh. Yes, I am," he responds. 

"Ah, British. What brings you to this side of the pond?" 

"Broadway."

"Oh, for real? Already have a role or trying to get one?"

"Yeah. In Cinderella at the Broadway. The... Prince."

Liam pauses, not wanting to seem arrogant. He’s never found it easy to talk about his job with people who aren’t also in the industry. Many don’t understand it. But the girl only grins at him genuinely.

"Well done with that one!" she says, bagging the last of his purchases. "Good luck!" 

Liam returns the smile as he pulls out his wallet to pay. 

"Thanks." 

Back at his building, he decides he really needs to invest in one of those collapsible bag lady carts for hauling things around in. He works out enough to make carrying things fairly easy, but the amount of grocery bags in his hands makes it difficult to unlock the doors and work the lift. A minor annoyance and one he can surely live with, but.

Liam dumps the bags next to his laptop on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, flexing his fingers to work feeling back into them. He flips open the computer so it can power up whilst he puts the cold products away in the fridge and freezer. The machine is humming with life when he returns to it and opens Skype, the program automatically logging him in. A moment later the chime of an incoming call sounds through the small speakers, the screen flashing with "Harry,” and the boy’s profile picture.

He quickly presses 'accept call' and falls onto one of the wooden barstools that came with the place. 

Harry Styles' grin fills his computer screen and for a second, Liam imagines himself back in London lounging on Harry's sofa watching football on the telly on a Sunday afternoon. 

"Lee-yum," Harry says happily and reaches out to pat the lens of his laptop's camera, obscuring his face for a moment. "How are youuuuuuu?"

Liam returns the gesture before sitting with his hands clasped beneath his chin. 

"I'm well, mate. How's it back home?" 

He tries not to sound wistful, he really does, but of course Harry picks up on it. Harry picks up on everything, despite the papers calling the popstar arrogant and self-absorbed. He’s actually the kindest person Liam has ever met.

"It's alright. Not the same without you. Even Lark misses you!" 

Harry maneuvers his laptop in his hands so the camera is pointed down and Liam can see the little tortie next to him. 

"Look, Lark! It's your buddy Liam!" 

The cat, a rescue Liam and Harry had found abandoned behind a club as a kitten barely old enough to survive without her mother, raises her head to sleepily blink up at the computer above her. When she sees Liam's face she meows, rising to her feet to stretch and come close enough to sniff the laptop. 

"Hey, Larkie," Liam coos at the cat with a soft smile. He misses her already. He's going to have to get a cat to fill the void. 

Lark meows again before kneading Harry's thigh and settling down with a purr. 

"Looks like she's fine without me," Liam jokes and Harry's mop of wild curls returns to the screen. 

"Nah, Li. She's always liked you more than me and you know it." 

They chat for a bit longer before Harry has to go. He's playing a secret show in a small club in the city and he has to tweet the clue to its location before leaving. Before he signs off he reminds his best friend not to get into too much trouble without him, a cheeky grin before the screen goes black. 

Liam inhales and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes til he sees stars, exhaling only when they start to dissipate. 

 

;

 

Louis is the first actor to arrive on location on Tuesday morning, entering the wardrobe trailer a full twenty minutes before he needed to be there. Kate hovers behind him, never sure what to during filming. He doesn’t usually bring her to set, and most of her job is grocery shopping and making sure he is where he needs to be and when. So now that he's occupied, where he needs to be with a coffee from craft service and his schedule for the next month is in place, she doesn't know what to do with herself.

"Go sight-seeing or shopping or something, Kate," Louis tells her with a small laugh as he watches her from the mirror. "You're only here for this week and I'm going to be busy all day, so you might as well go have some fun." 

The brunette wavers, bottom lip between her teeth.

"Are you sure, Lou? I can -"

"Go," Louis says firmly and pulls his shirt over his head to change into costume. "I'll phone if I need you, but I highly doubt I will."

Kate grins and bounds out the door of the trailer. 

Louis isn't quite sure why he brought Kate to set this morning at all. For the most part, he's self sufficient, until it comes to having to run errands and he gets mobbed. He doesn't have to run errands whilst shooting, especially in a different city. He's already made the decision to send her on a vacation for the rest of shooting after they make it past the first week. She deserves the break, and he'll get along fine without her. 

An hour later when he's dressed and perfectly coiffed and powdered, Louis finds Leo perched on the edge of his seat with a bagel in the trailer that is serving to give the actors some privacy between takes. There isn’t enough room on the busy street for all of them to have their own trailers like they do in Hollywood, and none of the mind. Louis isn’t sure he’s _allowed_ to mind, and really he’s just grateful Leo has been a pleasure to work with.

"Ready, kid?" Leo asks, tugging at the napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt. He hands it to his own assistant who had been milling about behind him on her phone. 

Louis nods and they make their way onto set together for the first scene of location. 

Martin in settled in his chair at the edge of where they have the set taped out, an expanse of street in the financial district. Everything is a flurry of activity as cameras are prepped, microphones put into position, final lighting adjustments made after the doubles leave the set.

Today they're shooting a scene from the middle of the film where their characters argue about the involvement of the FBI, and things get heated. They don't need any preparation having already studied the script and gone over with Martin how he wanted them to portray their characters in this segment back in Los Angeles before flying out, so they take their places without any prompting. 

"Places!" Martin calls and a few moments later the cameras are rolling. 

"Listen, Danny," Leo grits through clenched teeth as they walk along the street, moving amongst the extras. "This isn't as simple as I thought. Too many people are involved -"

"So what?" Louis demands and balls his hands into his fists. "You can't just stop now!" 

Leo stops, roughly grabs Louis' arm and jerks him closer to him on the edge of the sidewalk. Louis can feel the heat rolling off his skin, the damp of his breath when he speaks.

"Don't tell me what to do," he hisses, brow furrowed into a scowl. "This isn't just us." 

Later, filming wraps around half six when the sun begins to set and the artificial lights can no longer match the lighting from the beginning of the day. They've managed to finish the scene and one other that takes place in the same location but earlier in the timeline. Louis is sweltering in his shirt sleeves and eagerly takes the stiff white shirt off in the wardrobe tent. The summer sun has been upon them all day, bleeding with the lights and making it nearly unbearable. Both he and Leo had had to change multiple times due to sweat soaking through their costumes and rendering them useless.

"Good job today," Leo says and claps Louis on the shoulder on his way out. 

Louis stares after him, hands frozen on his mobile texting Zayn. 

Even after shooting half the film in Los Angeles, it still feels surreal to be on set with some of the greatest names in film history, and he counts himself lucky for the opportunity to even be here.

He shakes his head to clear the shock and starts toward Nolita. 

 

;

 

Over the next week, Liam's loft begins to come together. Multiple shopping trips have returned with a shag rug for the main living area, coffee and dining tables, and a coat rack he places next to the door. The kitchen has been fully stocked with mismatched dishes and flatware, glasses and pans, and finally,  _finally_  it begins to feel a little like a home. He takes photographs and sends them to Harry and his mum, both of them responding that they're glad it isn't so empty anymore. Now that the place is somewhat furnished, Harry actually demands that Liam Skype him and carry his laptop around the flat so he can see it. His only qualm is the lack of a cat and he insists Liam go adopt one as soon as he has a chance to. Liam doesn't argue. He feels so alone with all the space and a warm body in his bed would be welcomed. 

But Liam doesn't have a chance before he has to report to work on Tuesday morning. The main cast is meeting at the recording studio to work with vocal coaches and begin recording the soundtrack. They've all been working on the songs on their own for a few months, but they haven't sung them together since they did a few tests after being cast, Liam the final member to join the group. He's excited to get back into the swing of being in a production, even if his last one ended less than two weeks previous. He feels most himself on stage even though he's playing a character. It's always been the one constant in his life. 

It's a forty-five minute trip to the studio during rush hour, but Liam arrives shortly before the scheduled eight am. He takes the lift to the studio spaces on the second floor where the rest of the cast is already assembled and waiting.

"It's the Prince!" Laura shouts as Liam enters the common area in front of three recording booths. She jumps to her feet to embrace him, head barely reaching his shoulder.

"Good to see you, Cinderella," he jokes and wraps his arms around her. "How have you been?" 

The tiny blond grins and tugs him over to the sofa where Henry, the king, is occupying the other end. 

"Good, good. Busy with things, but it's all been really great!" 

Liam smiles and ruffles her hair, glad she's so nice. He wouldn't have been able to handle another diva cast member after the fiasco of his last production.

He greets everyone else in the room, from Anna and Hayley, the stepsisters, to Amelia their vocal coach. 

"Looks like we're just waiting on Niall then," one of the audio engineers says with a chuckle. "As usual."

Liam turns curiously at the very non-American name that brings a confused reminder of home.

"Niall?"

"Yeah -" 

The door flies open and Niall almost falls through it, cheeks pink and chest heaving with every breath. 

"I'm so sorry," he apologies breathlessly. "Woke up late and couldn't leave without breakfast!" 

"You're only a few minutes late," Amelia says with a teasing smile. "Just don't let it happen again now." 

Liam is staring at the boy who just came in, his heart picking up its pace because - oh my god - a familiar face and a familiar accent in this city. Niall must feel someone watching him because he turns, scratching the back of his neck as he looks around the room. His blue eyes light up when he sees Liam in the corner. 

"Liam! Long time, mate! Didn't know you were coming to this side of the pond!" he exclaims and crosses the room in one stride before hugging him. 

"You two know each other?" Laura asks, looking between the two. 

"Hell yeh!" Niall replies with a grin, his arm still slung around Liam's shoulders. "I worked on the soundtrack for the last production Liam here was in." 

"You did the soundtrack for the Palladium’s Oz?" Hayley asks, her mouth a perfect 'o' with surprise. 

Niall nods enthusiastically.

“Yup. Liam was the best cowardly lion I’ve ever heard, too.”

Liam flushes crimson as all eyes turn to him now. 

"Uhm, can we start?" 

It's a long day and by the time Amelia dismisses them around seven in the evening, Liam's throat hurts and his stomach is growling. Lunch felt like a day ago as he picks himself up off his chair behind the soundboard where he's been sitting with Niall, watching him fiddle with the knobs. 

"Want to grab dinner?" Niall asks, flipping his snap back around again. 

"Sure," Liam agrees easily, happy for a dining partner for the first time in over a week. You never realise how alone you are until you are eating by yourself every meal.

 They walk to a diner around the corner, and Liam knows the show choreographers would kill him if they knew he was here. Just the smell of grease that has permeated everything has to be unhealthy. 

"Can't believe you actually left London," Niall comments after they've ordered and the waitress has walked away. 

Liam quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Why?"

Niall shrugs.

"The West End seemed like your home."

"Yeah, well," Liam sighs and rests his chin on his hand. "Thought it was time for a new challenge. Just didn't think it'd be this challenging." 

"Being alone in a new country, yeah?"

"Exactly." 

Niall smiles at him sympathetically, twisting the paper from his straw between his fingers

"I know how it feels." 

But Liam doesn't know if he really does, not truly. Niall and Zayn have been together for long enough that they've begun to bleed into one another. He wonders what it's like, to lose yourself within another person only to find they’ve become a part of you.

 

;

 

"Niall, I'm bored," Louis whines into his phone, sprawled out on the sofa in his living room. He has the day off from filming as the crew moves locations and he knows he should be resting but he isn't tired. Plus, two weeks into filming everyone knows he’s in New York and it’s becoming difficult to do anything unnoticed. "Come amuse me." 

"I can't, Lou. I'm at work," Niall tells him and Louis can almost hear the blonde rolling his eyes from across town.

"What about after work?"

"I get off in an hour. We can go to Central Park or something?" Niall suggests.

"Awesome,” Louis crows happily. “I'll meet you at the rocks near the south entrance at 6:30!" 

"Sure thing. Bye." 

Niall ends the call and sets his phone down on the table before going back to adjusting the treble on the soundboard. 

"God, Louis is so demanding," he sighs to Liam in his usual space beside him when he's not in the booth himself. 

Liam knows he should be bonding with his castmates, but Niall is leaving in two days when they wrap the preliminary recording so he wants as much time with the Irishman as possible before he’s thrust back into a world without him.

"Louis?" 

"Tomlinson. Zayn's best mate. Still not sure how  _that_  happened, but he's here shooting a film." 

Liam laughs quietly because he knows how that goes. He's not entirely sure how he and Harry became friends either. They'd been in the Sound of Music together six years ago, polar opposites. Where he was quiet and shy, Harry was loud and obnoxious. But as two of the youngest in the cast and playing brothers, they'd been drawn to each other. That was Harry’s first and last production in the West End before taking his chances on a pop career that had sky rocketed him to fame almost overnight, but he’d never lost his relationship with Liam.

"He doesn't know many people here and he's got the attention span of a goldfish, so I've been entertaining him," Niall continues. "Dunno what he's gonna do when I go home." 

Niall's blue eyes suddenly leave Henry in the booth to stare at Liam in wonder. 

"What?" Liam asks, recoiling in confusion, using his feet to push his rolling chair away from Niall.  

"Come to the park with me. I'll introduce you two. You can entertain him, and god knows you'll also need a friend when I'm gone." 

Liam huffs.

"I resent that." 

"You know it's true,” Niall says reaches out to ruffle Liam's hair. Liam leans into the touch for a moment before pulling away again, remembering he’s supposed to be insulted. He doesn’t need Niall to make friends for him, especially with someone like _Louis Tomlinson_ , Hollywood darling and one of the most famous men in Britain. Someone Liam finds extremely fit and talented and he’s sure he might be a bit star struck over if they’re actually introduced.

Niall’s face softens when Liam moves.

"I don't want you to be alone here either." 

Liam sighs.

"Alright. I'll go." 

When Liam and Niall arrive at Central park after walking over from 53rd, they find that Louis is already there, stretched out on one of the rocks next to the play area, sunning himself like a cat. Liam can't help himself from staring, eyes raking up to where Louis' shirt has been pulled up from stretching, exposing a mile of toned golden skin. He's seen him on the telly, watched his movies at the cinema, but in person he's absolutely stunning, with long lashes that flutter open to reveal blue eyes that sparkle when he sees Niall. 

"Nialler!" he shouts in excitement as he struggles to stand on the uneven footing. He nearly pitches forward onto his face, but he manages to scramble down from the rock and embrace the taller boy, who grins and leans into the hug. He notices Liam then, eyes filling with curiosity. "You brought a friend?" 

"Yeah, Lou this is -" 

"Liam Payne," Louis finishes for him, sticking out his hand for Liam to shake. "It's nice to meet you." 

Liam takes the offered hand and shakes it, trying not to look as confused as he feels. Louis' grip is strong, even though his hand - like the rest of him - is so much smaller than Liam. 

"Big fan, mate," Louis continues with a wide smile. "Saw you in the Wizard of Oz last year, you were incredible." He looks to Niall now, who is standing to the side and watching the exchange with a mischievous look in his eyes. "Didn't know you two were friends!" 

"We worked together on Oz, and he's in Cinderella," Niall supplies. 

Liam is staring again, because _Louis Tomlinson_  knows who he is and  _thinks his performance was incredible_. 

Louis is staring back, taking in the way Liam's brown eyes have widened and his cheeks have flushed pink at the compliment. It’s pretty really, all innocence and warmth and Louis finds his breath caught in his chest. Liam’s performance in Oz had left him sitting in his red velvet seat of the theatre feeling wistful. He’d wanted more after the curtain closed. More of the Cowardly Lion, more of Liam’s brilliant voice, more of the kind of acting that makes you forget where a character ends and the man begins again. 

Niall fist pumps, completely unnoticed by the other two. 


	2. i'll be the hope joining the walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally supposed to be two parts, 15k. I couldn't fit the plot as I wanted it into those constraints, so it looks like it'll be 5-7 and 50-60k. sorry for the long wait, this is why. hope you like this bit x

“No, absolutely not,” Louis starts before Niall takes a breadstick and shoves it into his friend’s mouth just to shut him up. “For god’s sake, Niall,” he sputters around the crunchy bread. “Just because you don’t like United!”

“Go rams,” Niall says cheerfully, stabbing at a ravioli with his fork.

“Did you actually see the match though?” Liam asks. “The goal was absolutely offsides.”

“I thought you were a Man United fan,” Louis says incredulously, eyes as wide as his plate of pasta. “Wikipedia lied to me.”

Niall stops chewing.

“Why were you looking him up on Wikipedia?”

“Because Lottie and I got into an argument about where his accent was from after we saw Oz,” Louis explains with a huff as he tosses a balled up napkin at Niall’s head. “I won, by the way,” he adds. “But your page still lied.”

Liam smirks, but his heart is fluttering.

“Well I didn’t write mine like you did yours, now did I?”

Louis has the grace to look scandalized.

“Liam Payne, _I never_.”

“Don’t let him fool you. He totally did,” Niall declares and Louis kicks him underneath the table. “Oi ya knob, that hurt.”

“As it should have.”

Liam leans back in his chair, swirling the last bit of wine around in his glass before draining it. He’s somewhat surprised that Louis is exactly as the media portrays him to be. Sassy and exuberant but easy-going. He’s so _normal_ it’s almost unnerving. Kind of like how fit he is. Liam keeps having to tell himself he can’t just reach across the table and run his fingers through the feathered strands of his hair.

“Whatcha thinkin over there, Payno?” Niall asks, pulling Liam back to the table.

Liam sits up straighter again and leans forward to nick the bottle of wine from its place in front of Louis.

“That we should make Louis buy us dinner for being such marvelous company.”

Louis throws his head back and laughs, the sound of it making Liam flush crimson as he pours himself another glass of wine. Niall reaches out for a fist bump and Liam obliges him, topping off the two others’ glasses. 

“What kind of guy do you think I am that I wouldn’t pay for dinner _anyway_? Can’t believe everything you read in the papers, young Liam.”

“Yeah, they were wrong when they said you were charming, weren’t they?”

Louis stares at him, simply stares, mouth hanging open for a long moment before he turns to Niall.

“Wherever did you find him?” he demands like Liam isn’t even at the table anymore.

Niall merely grins as he and Liam clink their wine glasses together.

 

;

 

When Louis rings Liam to grab coffee the next day, Liam is surprised but eager. They’d texted into the wee hours of morning when Liam had finally nodded off with his phone in his hand. He’d been rather embarrassed about it too because what sort of grown man falls asleep in the middle of a conversation? But Louis had been nice as ever about it in the morning, with a ‘ _hope you slept well, sleepy head ;))’_

They agree to meet at a Starbucks about halfway between the studio and the Wolf set in an hour, enough time for showers and travel.

Liam arrives first and snags a table in the back just as a girl is vacating it.  He smiles politely when she gives him an odd look and settles in his seat to wait for Louis. He’s a bit early so he sits and goes back and forth between texting his mum and people watching.

When Louis arrives he’s five minutes late, slipping into the shop with a grey knit beanie pulled low on his head and thick-framed glasses perched on his nose. He looks around, frowning when he doesn’t spot Liam tucked into the far corner.

\- _ovr 2 yr left. past the stirrers._ he texts quickly, and watches Louis’ phone light up in his hand. He stifles a chuckle when Louis frowns down at the message then stretches up onto his tip-toes to see around the line ahead of him. Liam lifts his hand to wave and Louis spots him, face splitting into a grin as he hurries over.

“Cheeky bugger, hiding back here,” Louis says as he approaches and Liam stands to tug him into a quick hug.

“Thought it might be good to stay away from the windows,” Liam says simply and it suddenly hits Louis just how much Liam _gets it_.

He doesn’t know why it hadn’t before. After all Liam lived with and is best friends with _Harry Styles_ of all people. He knows what it’s like to have paparazzi follow you and photographers under your bedroom window and _fuck_.

“You alright there, mate?” Liam asks after a long moment when Louis’ face goes strangely blank.

“Yeah,” Louis says slowly before smiling up at him. “What did you want to drink?”

“No, sit, what did _you_ want to drink?” Liam counters and gently pushes Louis down into the empty chair that’s facing away from the window.

“But –“

“God, Louis, just tell me your order.”

“Venti caramel macchiato with extra caramel,” Louis says obediently. “Please and thank you.”

Liam puts the orders in and pays before returning to the table to wait for their drinks. Louis has found a stack of sugar packets that he’s ripped open and poured onto the table.

“You can’t sit still can you?” Liam asks in amusement as he slides into his seat again.

Louis drags his index finger through the white sugar, drawing patterns in it on the dark wood table.

“I can, I just don’t always choose to do so.”

“Guess so.”

There’s a minute of silence as Louis plays in his sugar and Liam twiddles his thumbs before –

“A venti caramel macchiato with extra caramel and a venti café mocha for Batman.”

Louis bursts into laughter when Liam rises to his feet to go collect their drinks. He’s still laughing when Liam returns and hands him his cup.

“Stop that, you,” Liam chastises playfully.

“I’m sorry, but Batman?”

Liam shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, humming happily when the whipped cream washes over his tongue.

“He’s my favourite superhero. Who’s yours?”

Louis looks thoughtful as he sets his cup down on the table and holds it between his chilly fingers.

“Superman,” he replies decidedly. “Oi, don’t make that face!”

“What face?” Liam asks with feigned innocence and he smoothes his features back into an easy smile.

They banter back and forth for a half hour before they have to go their separate ways to work.  It’s only then that Liam notices the men with cameras outside the shop, only visible over Louis’ shoulder when there isn’t a queue for the counter.

 “What do you say to seeing if this place has a back exit?” he says casually.

Louis raises his eyebrows so high they nearly disappear under the hem of his beanie.

“Really? Here?”

Liam nods, surprised as well. But it is what it is. Normally he wouldn’t even suggest it and he has nothing to hide, he and Louis are just friends (bah), but he can tell by the way Louis’ shoulders slump he’s not in the mood to have cameras shoved in his face or deal with the speculation that will surely come of it. He’s Louis Tomlinson, openly gay actor and it’s not as if Liam isn’t known. Maybe he isn’t in America, but surely in England both thanks to being friends with Harry and his own career.

“Can we? Please?” Louis’ a bit disgusted with himself and the desperation that finds his way into his words. He should be used to this by know, but sometimes he just isn’t and doesn’t want to have to be.

Liam nods again and gets up to go whisper in the ear of one of the baristas. She returns with him and quickly takes them back through the storage room to a door that opens into the deserted alleyway.

“Thank you,” Louis murmurs with a grateful smile as they leave, Liam’s hand reassuring on his arm.

 

;

 

The next night the three are sprawled across the surfaces of Louis’ flat, Niall spread eagle on the floor, Louis’ feet on Liam’s lap on the sofa, with a film playing on the television. Louis isn’t really paying attention, instead texting Zayn even though it’s nearly three am in England and the other boy would much rather be sleeping.

Because Louis is having a _crisis_ , about the boy at the other end of the sofa.

He’s not one for love at first sight, but there’s something about Liam and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles so genuinely, that makes Louis’ stomach do somersaults. Actual somersaults, he’s sure of it. And he’s known the boy for forty-eight hours.

In those forty-eight hours he’s seen him three times, dinner with Niall, the coffee stop, and now. Also in those forty-eight hours they’ve been texting as much as possible, sneaking away from sets and rehearsals to send another message and lying in bed til far later than they should be awake. When they’re not texting, Louis finds his mind drifting off to the curve of Liam’s lips and the line of his jaw.

\- _on a scale of 1 to 10 how badly do u want to kiss him?_ Zayn asks.

Louis glances over at Liam who is tossing a piece of popcorn at Niall as they discuss the scene playing out on the television screen. Niall lifts himself up on his elbows and opens his mouth for Liam to throw another piece. Liam complies and Niall catches the kernel before settling down on the rug again, Liam laughing brightly.

\- _42_ he texts back decidedly. The answer to life, and the universe is obviously also the answer to Liam.

\- _so do it._

_\- but what if he’s not into me, z?_

_\- guys who aren’t into each other don’t text like u 2 do._

He has a point, Louis decides and sends a final text telling Zayn to go the fuck to sleep because he has a photo shoot in a few hours and he doesn’t want the make-up artist to have to use a half pound of concealer underneath his pretty eyes. Zayn responds with a quick _luv u 2 lou, kiss ni 4 me_ and Louis locks his phone before reaching above his head to set it on the end table.

“Zed says hello,” he announces to the other two and Niall raises his head to give him a knowing smile.

“Does he now?”

“Shush, Nialler. Watch the film.”

“Do you even know what’s going on in the film?” Liam asks with one eyebrow quirked up in amusement.

“Does it matter?”

Liam rolls his eyes and pats Louis’ foot on top of the afghan covering it. Louis scowls and wiggles his toes into Liam’s thigh, just hard enough to be painful. Liam merely chuckles and grips Louis’ ankle to keep his foot still.

 

;

 

\- _i have somting i need 2 do this afternoon after recording. do u want 2 com?_ Liam sends the text without so much as a second thought.

He’s not quite sure how it happened, but after knowing Louis for a mere three days he feels like he’s known him his entire life. And in a way it makes sense, considering in seventy-two hours they’ve covered pretty much every topic of conversation possible. They’ve talked about their sisters, the towns they grew up in, how they got involved in their careers, football.

Louis’ response comes back more quickly than he’d expected.

\- _what is it?_

_\- ull see. wil u com?_

\- _sure._

;

 

Louis isn’t sure what he’d expected really, but the ASPCA of New York definitely was not it.

“Harry and I had a cat,” Liam explains as they tumble out of the backseat of the cab. “Well, she’s technically Harry’s cat. But.”

He crumples the receipt from the ride and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’d be nice to have a cat.”

He sounds uncertain, like he doesn’t know if having a cat will make him miss home more, or if it will make Brooklyn feel like home. Like he isn’t sure if he’s okay with the latter if it’s the case.

Louis knows how that feels.

“Well let’s go then,” he says with a bright smile and pulls the door open and gestures Liam inside.

Liam glances at him, then the door before going inside with Louis following after him.

The lobby is busy, full of people looking to adopt pets, and Liam moves forward swiftly to sign in on the clipboard on the counter. His is the fourth name on the list, most everyone else already working with a volunteer to help them find a new forever friend. They take a seat on one of the low wooden benches linking the walls.

“What sort of cat do you want?” Louis asks as he looks around at the bright posters covering the walls. There’s everything from adoption guidelines to anatomical diagrams of birds.

Liam shrugs one shoulder.

“I’m not picky. One who needs a home, but seems nice, y’know?”

“You’ll know it when you meet him or her?”

“Exactly.”

Liam leans back against the wall behind them, legs stretched out and hands resting on his knees.

Within fifteen minutes Liam’s name is being called by a teenage girl with her hair pulled messily into a bun. She’s a head shorter than Louis and she smiles at him like she knows exactly who he is but she doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m Hilary,” she introduces herself and shakes both their hands. “What can I help you with, Mr. Payne?”

“I’m looking for a cat,” Liam says and Louis doesn’t pay attention to their conversation as Hilary asks him if he’s ever had a cat, if he has any preferences. Instead he watches as Liam slowly starts to visibly relax, shoulders becoming less tense.

Hilary directs them to a bottle of hand sanitizer and requests that they clean their hands – “we don’t want our kitties getting sick” – before leading them into the back of the shelter where the cats are housed.

There are _so many_ , in rows of metal cages stacked on top of one another. Louis swallows down the sudden desire to take every single one of them home. He doesn’t even _like_ cats all that much. Some are sitting at the front of their cages, paws pushed through the bars as several families pass around the room, and others are curled up glaring out at him from the dimmer depths.

Louis hangs back as Liam begins his trek around the room, reading the names and descriptions on the plastic cards attached to the bars, cooing at the occupants with Hilary at his side. This is Liam’s pet, Liam’s decision.

Liam comes to a hard stop in front of one of the cages at the end of the row, far enough down that Louis can’t see the cat inside.

“What’s her story?” he asks quietly.

“ She was attacked by a dog when she was ten weeks old,” Hilary replies with a sad smile. “She was brought into a vet who nursed her back to health, and she’s been here since she was about four months old. She’s nearly one now.”

Louis comes up behind them to peer into the cage.

Inside is the saddest cat he’s ever seen. It’s a small black and white tuxedo thing with long hair and white paws, right eye closed tightly and right ear mostly gone. It glares at them with its good eye, wide and brilliant green.

“Can I pet her?” Liam requests. He takes a step back when Hilary nods and unlatches the door. The little cat uncurls herself and takes a cautious step forward, pausing slightly and stretching her neck as far as it will reach to sniff at Liam’s offered hand. She must deem him acceptable because she suddenly thrusts her head underneath his fingers and rubs against them. He laughs brilliantly and scratches the base of her bad ear before running his hand down her back, smoothing down her rumpled fur.

“Come pet her, Lou,” Liam says with a grin and Louis offers his fingers for the cat to sniff. She looks up at him questioningly before allowing him to stroke her head.

Liam’s eyes dart to the name badge on the door and then down to the cat again.

“Hello, Olive.”

He pets the cat for a few more minutes until she’s purring delightedly beneath his hands, rolled onto her back so he can rub her belly.

“I’ve never seen her let anyone pet her like this,” Hilary admits and Liam beams at her, clearly ecstatic.

“I want her,” he says firmly. “I’m taking her home.”

“We can make that happen.”

Liam doesn’t want to be torn away from Olive even for ten minutes to go sort out the adoption paperwork, and even though it’s against the rules, Hilary allows him to bring her with them.

Olive stays tucked in the crook of Liam’s left arm as he fills out the forms with his right hand. Louis watches, gently petting her ears.

Liam would pick this cat, and this cat would pick Liam. Kind hearted Liam drawn to the broken thing no one else wants, and the sad little cat seeing the pureness of him.

After getting a full run down on cat care and paying the adoption fee, Liam grudgingly settles Olive into a cardboard carrier to take her home. Hilary waves good-bye with a pleased smile and outside on the sidewalk Liam lets his breath out.

They stop by a pet shop for supplies as soon as they’re back in Brooklyn, picking out bowls and toys and a cat bed before hauling it all to Liam’s loft.

Liam sits on the floor next to the open carrier Olive refuses to leave, trying to tempt her with a bag of treats whilst Louis sets up the litter box and food and water bowls and scratching post. By the time he’s finished Olive is curiously exploring the flat, having somehow climbed on top of the bookshelf by the window.

Liam comes over to where Louis is standing in the kitchen making tea, looking stricken.

“I just realised you’ve never been here and I didn’t give you a tour of the place and I’m so sorry,” he apologises in a rush.

Louis chuckles and hands him a mug of tea.

“Already made myself at home, mate, it’s fine,” he tells him.  He likes the way the loft has felt homey since he stepped inside, half from the space itself and half from Liam simply being in it.

Liam smiles as he takes the mug.

“Still. Come on. This is obviously the kitchen,” he says and gestures to the area around them. He takes his free hand and directs Louis around the counter into the main space of the loft. “This is the living room. And the library. And gym.”

Louis follows over to the far side of the room towards the floating wall, Olive jumping down to tag along.

“And this is the bedroom area and bathroom.”

Liam waves a hand absently at his bed, blankets still in twist in the middle of the mattress from the previous night.

“It’s bigger than my place,” Louis jokes.

“Yours is temporary.”

There’s something in Liam’s voice that Louis knows too well, hasn’t felt himself in a long time.

“Yours is more lovely. I really like it,” he tells him genuinely and Liam grants him one of the sweet smiles that makes Louis’ heart stutter.

 

;

 

It’s Liam’s mobile that wakes him the next morning, far too early for his liking. When it chirps its text alert, Olive shoots off his pillow to stare at him grumpily at the foot of the bed.

“Not my fault,” he tells her and stifles a yawn with one hand as he picks up his phone with his other. He flicks it open to find a mess of missed calls and messages from his family and publicist, but it’s a series of messages from Harry that set off the alert.

_\- I see you got a cat._

_\- can’t believe you didn’t tell me, you dick._

Liam frowns down at the phone. What was Harry talking about? And how could he possibly know about Olive?

_\- wut r u talkin bout?_ he texts back and rolls over onto his side to stretch his fingers towards Olive. It amazes him when she finds her way back up the bed to sit in front of his face and nudge his cheek with her nose. Cats don’t just love like this. But he accepts it gratefully.

\- _check sugarscape._

Liam leans around Olive to retrieve his laptop from where he’d stowed it underneath the edge of the bed and sits up against the headboard.

Splashed across the front of Sugarscape’s homepage is a photograph of him and Louis leaving the pet shop the previous evening, Liam with the carrier in one hand and a bag of catfood under his arm, Louis with bags of everything else. They’ve their heads bent towards each other, Liam’s free hand on Louis’ shoulder as he speaks and Liam can tell the exact moment it was taken. Leaving the shop he’d thanked Louis for coming with him, not noticing the camera that must have been across the street.

Beneath the photo is the headline, **‘COZY COUPLE: LOUIS AND LIAM PET SHOPPING IN BROOKLYN.’**

He can’t resist the temptation to click the link.

_Someone send us alcohol and chocolates because we’re having a collective breakdown here at Sugarscape HQ. After reportedly being seen around NYC together this week, there’s finally a photo of Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne in Brooklyn last night. LiLi, adopted a kitten from a shelter before the two picked up supplies from a local shop, looking awful cozy as they did. The cute is making us want to cry into our handkerchiefs._

_It’s all rather out of the blue too – who knew that they even knew each other? Makes us wonder, when they got together, and if it was on the far side of the pond at all. They make a lovely couple don’t you think?_

_But the real question here is what that kitten looks like. TWEET US A SNAP, LIAM._

Below the article is a photograph from the Starbucks, Louis’ back to the camera so you can’t tell it’s him, but Liam is smiling so openly anyone could tell it’s a private moment.

Liam stares at the page for a long beat before slamming the laptop lid shut. All the missed messages from his mum and sisters and publicist make sense now. Because all of England thinks he’s dating Louis.

Which he’s not.

But honestly wouldn’t mind.

Because Louis is sweet and funny and talented and fit and fuck.

 And there’s no way Louis feels the same.

Liam shifts his laptop to the side and swings his legs over the edge of his bed, picking up his phone again.

Harry answers on the second ring, his greeting in that slow drawl of his that wraps Liam up and doesn’t let go.

“Is it just Sugarscape?”Liam asks.

“Daily Mail, the Sun, and the Mirror all have it,” Harry replies. “Why are you calling me and not your publicist?”

“Are you really asking me that?”

Liam bites the words out and he can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line.

“Sorry. I just. She’ll need to know if you want her to say anything. It’s already a bit delayed because of the time difference, but Tommo’ publicist has already –“

Liam closes his eyes against the burning rising in his chest.

“What’d he say.”

He doesn’t want to know the answer, not really, but -

“Just, ‘no comment at this time.’”

Liam’s eyes snap open incredulously, heart leaping.

“They didn’t deny it?”

“No?”

Harry draws the word out longer than he probably should.

“Li, do you _like_ him?”

Liam chooses silence as his answer, but Harry’s known him long enough to know what it means.

“Oh my god, Leeyum. You two would be so great together, even though he’s a bit of a dick –“

“He’s not a dick,” Liam snaps. “Have you even met him, Harry?”

“Only a few times at awards shows, but –“

“He’s not a dick,” Liam repeats and reaches out to where Olive is curled up in the middle of the blanket. He strokes a gentle hand down her back, sighing when she purrs. “But I don’t think he’s interested, anyway.”

“He didn’t deny it, Liam,” Harry says softly. “Don’t you think that might be because if he did and the two of you started dating, he’d be a liar?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

The phone beeps loudly in his ear, signaling an incoming call. Liam pulls it away from his ear to glance at the screen.

_Louis._

“Haz, I have to go he’s calling me.”

“Go get em, tiger!”

Harry makes a kissing noise before hanging up and with a shaking hand, Liam switches the call over.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Louis breathes out and Liam’s stomach flips over because he sounds so _tired_. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, I was just talking to Harry.”

“Oh, did he –“

“Yeah. Kinda sucks doesn’t it?”

Louis’ laugh is shaky.

“A bit yeah. But. Can we talk? Can I come over?”

Liam frowns.

“Aren’t you already on set?”

He wants to see Louis, he does, but he knows how the conversation is going to go and he’d rather not do it right now, not ever really. It’s his day off, he just wants to climb back into bed and pull the blankets over his head.

“I’m not in any scenes today. Please?”

“Okay.”

“I’m leaving now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

;

 

As he waits for Louis to arrive, Liam calls his publicist to ask her to release a statement denying a relationship, saying he and Louis are just friends. Which is true. Then he calls his mum second, and he feels a bit guilty about doing so, but damage control right?

She tells him Louis sounds lovely and when he tells her he’s just a mate she sounds just as disappointed as he feels.

The buzzer next to the door is ringing far sooner than Liam would like and he hit the intercom.

“It’s me,” he hears Louis say before he can say anything, and he doesn’t have to so he just buzzes him up.

He hovers by the door and even after Louis knocks, he pauses. He waits because he feels like he’s going to be sick. He’s not sure why it’s changed so much, but it has.

“Li, I can hear you panicking,” Louis calls softly, just loud enough to be heard by Liam but not his neighbours.

Liam curses under his breath but pulls the door open anyway to find Louis on the other side. He’s dressed in grey joggers and a Ramones t-shirt, hood of his maroon hoodie pulled up over his head, and Liam notes the dark circles under his eyes beneath his glasses

Louis gives him a lopsided smile.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry, just –“

Liam scrambles to pull the door open and step out of the way. Louis closes it behind himself but makes no movement to step further into the loft.

“Liam, I –“

“No, don’t worry about it,” Liam cuts him off. “I get it, you don’t –“

“Have you quite finished?”

Louis looks amused, biting down on his bottom lip.

Liam just looks at him and doesn’t say anything else.

“You heard what I asked my publicist to say?” Louis prompts and Liam nods, swallowing thickly.

“Good. Because honestly, Liam. You’re all I’ve been able to think about this week, and I really want to get to know you better.”

Louis says it and gives Liam the most hopeful look that makes Liam’s stomach twist because _what_.

Louis has the audacity to chuckle, quietly, but still he’s laughing and Liam would punch him if he wasn’t frozen.

“You don’t see it, do you?” he says and reaches up to brush a thumb across Liam’s cheek, feather-light and tender. “You’re kind and funny and gorgeous, and I think we could be _good_ , and I’d quite like to try. If you want to. If you don’t think… everything, would be too much. Because if you did, I’d understand.”

Liam doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at the man standing in front of him because he can’t believe that just came out of his mouth. It’s moved past ‘Louis Tomlinson, famous actor’ and to ‘Louis Tomlinson, beautiful human being’ and yes. Yes, he wants to try.

Louis’ face has fallen, blue eyes darkening and Liam knows he’s waited a second too long.

“Sorry, I’ll –“ Louis starts but Liam takes a step forward into his space, grasps the edges of his hoodie with both hands and pulls him in until he can see every single facet of his eyes. Eyes that widen at the sudden intrusion.

Louis’ lips part to say something more, but Liam leans in and presses his own to them tentatively. Louis is still for a moment whilst his brain pops and fizzles and struggles to make sense of what’s happening, but then he _moves_ , snaking a hand up to Liam’s neck to tug his head down closer.

It’s Liam who pulls back first, out of breath and dizzy.  Instead of being hazy, everything is sharper and brighter.

“I’ll take that you want to?” Louis asks hopefully, breathlessly.

Liam chuckles and kisses the tip of his nose.

**Author's Note:**

> the Scorsese film Louis is shooting is real (The Wolf of Wall Street), as is the production of Cinderella at the Broadway Theatre Liam is in (actually, so are all the productions Liam is mentioned being in).


End file.
